


Love in the Digital Age

by orphan_account



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Matt meets Isaiah Warner, it isn't under the best of circumstances. But after a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger, he's left more confused than ever before. And after he and the new kid at school are assigned on the same project? Well, it can only mean trouble.





	1. One

Autumn, to Matthew Miller, represented death. It was the time of year when everything that was green and new died, and was replaced by a skeletal landscape of bare trees and monochromatic landscape. It also represented the death of his freedom, as a new school year would be starting, which was something particularly heinous this year. This year, it meant an end to getting away with the bare minimum. This year, it meant stress and worry as he prepped for his future somewhere he didn’t know yet, when he went off to College. Two years to prepare didn’t seem like enough time.

  
As always, he had walked the few blocks from his home to the monolithic grey building that was the main school block for the Joe Magerac High School, situated in this small town in the suburbs of Steelport, named for the massive statue that sat within the city’s limits. Of course, it couldn’t be seen from here, but that hadn’t mattered when the school was dedicated in the 1950s. The town was small, a place where everyone knew everyone: which was why it was extremely noticeable when an unfamiliar car pulled up at the front of the school. Literally everyone was staring at it, Matt himself included, as he walked past it and towards his small group of friends by the statue of Joe Magerac.

  
“New kid?” He asked of the twins, and they both –in unison- shrugged.

  
The car door opened, and out got mass of a boy: at least 6’3”, muscularly built, and dressed in a way that only seemed to make him look bigger. People stared, but many looked away quickly, causing Matt and the DeWynter twins to peer closely to see why.

  
“Oh Jeez.” Said Kiki, and she and Viola looked away quickly. Matt agreed, and looked away. The kid’s face was a mess: one side of it was covered in a massive, knotted burn scar, one that looked red, angry and worryingly fresh.

  
“Oh jeez indeed,” murmured Viola. “The assholes have spotted it.”

  
Matt inwardly groaned and looked back towards the kid, who had been surrounded by a group of three kids: Angelo Rodriguez, Tanya Winters, and Joseph Price. The new kid stopped, and looked down at the three shorter students.

 

“Damn, he’s fuckin’ ugly,” snorted Tanya, pacing around him. “The fuck you do to your face, freak?”

  
The new kid was silent, but the confrontation had drawn the attention of another group of kids. Another group that Matt tried to stay away from: the weird kids who dressed in purple and called themselves the Saints. Their defacto leader had graduated last summer, leaving them as what could only loosely now be called a gang. They hung back, but they watched, eager to see what happened.

  
“I want to make one thing absolutely clear to you, fresh meat.” Angelo had puffed himself up now. He was a kid who wanted to be bad, but was overshadowed by what his brother, Hector had managed in his short school career before finally dropping out. “We’re in fucking charge here. You? You’re lucky we even noticed you. You’re graced by our presence. You understand?”

  
The new kid rolled his eyes, and walked through them, knocking the much shorter Angelo to one side as he went, not caring for one second about the smaller guy's words.

  
“I’m fucking talking to you, you crispy faced motherfucker!”

  
Angelo grabbed the kid’s arm, and that was his first mistake. The kid turned, incredibly quick on his feet, and punched him hard, right in the face. Angelo went down like a sack of potatoes, Joseph Price started yelling, and all the Saints ran over, deciding to back the new kid, impressed with what they had seen. Teachers descended on the fight before it could become an all-out brawl, and the Principal appeared, seizing Angelo and the new kid by the shoulder as Angelo rose to his feet.

  
“What in God’s good name is going on here?” She yelled, tightening her grip on Angelo’s arm as the kid began to squirm.

  
Johnny Gat, troublemaker extraordinaire stepped forwards, and opened his mouth to begin telling the whole story, only to stop, and look at Pierce Washington, who stepped forwards graciously, placing his hand on Johnny's shoulder.

 

"You see, Ma'am-"

 

  
“From someone who ISN’T Mister Washington?”

  
Unbidden, Matt stepped forwards.

  
“Principal, Angelo started it! He was just coming in, and they all ganged up on him, commenting on his appearance, and then Angelo swung for him.”

  
Tanya started for him, only to be grabbed back by Joseph. “You’re fucking dead, Miller!”

  
“Miss Winters, that is enough! All three of you, my office!” The three sullenly gathered their things, and stomped off towards the building, Angelo muttering darkly, a black eye already forming on his face.

  
“Mister Warner, I do hope you’re not beginning as you intend to continue at this school?”

  
“No, Ma’am.” The tall boy said sullenly, avoiding meeting her eyes.

  
“It better stay that way. It is NOT the best first impression to make.” With that the Principal strode off in the same direction as the others, her back as straight as a rod. Students slowly returned to their conversations, and the Saints surrounded the new kid, Johnny Gat clasping his arm and grinning excitedly. “That was great, kid.”

  
The new kid broke into a lazy smile. “Thanks.”

  
“What’s your name? Not ‘Mister Warner’, I’m guessing?”

  
The kid grinned further, and the bell rang. Kiki and Viola started walking off. Matt stayed, curious to find out the name of who he had helped, despite the worry of being late to Homeroom.

  
“Isaiah. Nice to meet you.”

  
Matt quickly turned and headed towards the door to school, quickly approaching Kiki’s disappearing back.

  
“Hey kid!”

  
Matt started, and then turned to answer the call, worried it would be one of the many cohorts of the three he had just dropped in it, about to teach him not to interfere. Instead he was met with a chest at his eye height, and he was forced to look upwards to meet the new kid –No, Isaiah, he reminded himself -’s eyes.

  
“Thanks for standing up for me.” His voice had dropped into a soft, smooth tone. Matt opened his mouth to say something, but the kid headed towards the reception desk, and anything he wanted to say had long melted away inside his mind.

 

***

 

In Home Room, he met the now worryingly familiar face of Isaiah again as he was introduced to the rest of his particular class. It was the Principal who brought him in, ushering the giant of a teen into the room, before pursing her lips, and waiting for them all to fall silent. At the back of the room, out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Johnny nod a greeting.

  
“Everyone, some of you may have already met him, but we have a new student in our midst. This is Isaiah Warner, who has just moved here from Steelport. I trust you’ll all make sure he feels welcome here, and keep him out of trouble.”

  
She glared at Johnny in particular, seeming exasperated that the only empty chair in the room was next to him. She directed Isaiah to sit there, and he dumped himself into the seat, shedding this massive jacket to reveal a toned upper body, skin concealed with a long sleeved flannel shirt. Their home room teacher nodded his approval. Benjamin King was a hardened man, but as a pretty cool music teacher, he carried a lot of respect in the school, with many students calling him Benjamin Motherfucking King behind his back.

  
“Nice to have you with us, Isaiah. I’ll make sure you’re added to our register, and sort you out with your class schedule. Matthew, why don’t you show him to his first class?”

  
“Yes, Mister King.” Matt said meekly, turning to offer a smile to Isaiah, who only smiled back wickedly. Oh God, Matt thought to himself, swallowing hard. Why was this guy putting him in such fits of nervousness?

 

***

 

Matt often walked home alone, as Kiki and Viola always had a lift of some sort to collect them from school. In addition, his mother was a Doctor, and she was insistent that Matt get some form of exercise, particularly as he spent most of his time cooped up in his room on his computer when he wasn’t in school. He was about to turn down his street to his house when a hand grabbed his shoulder, and his heart sank. The repercussions he had worried about were probably about to happen. He turned, guided by the hand, and his heart sank further than he thought possible when he saw who had grabbed him: Hector Rodriguez, older brother to Angelo, and complete bastard.

  
“Hello, Matt.” He said, in a voice that was weighted with barely contained anger and disgust.

  
“H-hello H-Hector! So n-nice to see you!”

  
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Matt was steered past the entry way to his street, and down an alleyway up ahead. He was shaking, and felt like he was about to be sick. Hector suddenly shoved him against a wall, and Matt winced as his face scraped against the brick.

  
“Hold him.”

  
Hands grasped his shoulders and he was held against the wall, fingers tightly wrapped around his wrists. He looked up, ready to beg for them to just let him leave, when a fist drove hard into his stomach, knocking the words from his mouth and the air from his lungs. He coughed and sputtered, wheezing in an attempt to get his breath back, but it was in vain as another punch came to his stomach.

  
Who the fuck do you think you are, you little faggot? Fucking snitching on my brother?”

  
“Ple-“

  
Another punch. Matt gasped for air, bending double from the force of the blow.

  
“Please… let me go…” He choked, desperately trying to get his breath back.

  
“Not until you’ve learned your fucking lesson. Little bitches like you need to know your fucking place. No one snitches on the Rodriguez family. No one.”

  
This time, he was punched hard in the face, and he tasted blood. Now he was truly frightened. He became aware of a revving engine, and the sound of pounding music from close by. He looked up, and saw that a car had pulled up in the alleyway. Its doors opened, and pounding metal music flooded the alleyway. Out stepped a tall man, his face obscured by a wolf mask. Slung across one shoulder was a metal baseball bat. Hector went to square up to the newcomer, but anything he had to say was cut short as the stranger swung the bat hard and knocked Hector out. He stepped over him, and all he had to do to ensure Matt’s release was heft the bat. The other two attackers fled, and the masked man pulled Matt upright, grasping his chin in his hands, examining the burst lip. He then released his face, and watched as Matt gathered his things. He went, got back in the car and drove off, and Matt made a run for home.

 

***

 

When Matt got through the door, his mother was horrified by the state of his face, and insisted that he sit down and let her clean it up. When pressed for details, however, Matt lied. He didn’t want anything else happening. He made up a story about someone trying to mug him, and punching him in the face before a stranger came to his aid. He didn’t feel that explaining about a stranger in a wolf mask would be particularly helpful. The downside was that his mother insisted he either find someone to give him a lift to and from school, or she would to it herself. He said yes to everything, and winced as she cleaned out the cut on his lip from where his teeth had sliced through his skin. His heart was still pounding, and he was worried about what else might happen, but his mother eventually let him go, and he went upstairs and threw himself down on his bed, his stomach churning with worry. There was one thing of which he could be certain: the Rodriguez brothers were not going to let this slide.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small mysteries are okay. We can work with those. Weird ones? Maybe not...

**OdekarA is now Online.**

**OdekarA:** Hi, Matt. How’s school?

**R4gn0r0k:** Okay, I guess. I haven’t exactly had the best first day back.

**OdekarA:** What happened? Someone get sick of you and beat you up?

**R4gn0r0k:** Well, yeah.

**OdekarA:** Oh. Oh fuck. I’m sorry for joking about that.

**OdekarA:** Please tell me you’re joking, Matt

**R4gn0r0k:** Nope. New kid was getting picked on so… I decided to stand up for him when he was going to get in trouble for defending himself. So one of the kids who got in trouble told his big brother.

**OdekarA:** Oh god.

**R4gn0r0k:** So when I was nearly home they grabbed me and took me in an alleyway.

**R4gn0r0k:** They were beating me up, I’ve burst my lip.

**OdekarA:** ):

**R4gn0r0k:** Then something…. Weird happened.

**OdekarA:**? Weird good or weird bad?

**R4gn0r0k:** Not sure yet. Some car pulled up and a guy in a mask got out. He had a baseball bat and he knocked out the guy, checked on me and then drove off. I ran home.

**OdekarA:** Did you tell Auntie?

**R4gn0r0k:** I told mum I got mugged. Didn’t want her to know I might have a crazy stalker in a wolf mask who wields a baseball bat to devastating effect.

 

Matt pushed himself away from his desk for a moment and sighed. Asha was his cousin, and still lived back in England. He knew he could trust her not to tell his mother, but she hadn’t seen what this guy was like. It had been terrifying, but also strangely gratifying to see someone –or something- defending him like that.

 

**OdekarA:** I would have thought that would be right up your street actually, seeing as you do spend a lot of time watching that American thing. Nightfury?

**R4gn0r0k:** It’s Nyteblayde, and it’s AMAZING. And no, weird wolf people aren’t as cool as vampires.

 

He could almost feel her rolling her eyes from here. She had a very dim view of Nyteblade and in all honesty, could not understand his love for the show.

He heard the _ping_ of a notification, and clicked over to the pane: a request to add him to his address book, from an account identified only as **LOBO_TRAVIESO.** Everything about the account was set to default imagery, except for the avatar: a wolf’s head that looked incredibly similar to the mask of the guy who had saved him from the beating in the alleyway. He quickly grabbed a screenshot of the profile, and sent it to Asha.

 

**OdekarA:**?

**OdekarA:** What’s this?

**R4gn0r0k:** They just sent me a friend request.

**R4gn0r0k:** That’s the exact same wolf as the guy’s mask, the one that bailed me out in that alleyway.

**OdekarA:** Their username’s almost as stupid as yours. Let me google it.

**R4gn0r0k:** ):

**R4gn0r0k:** My username is not stupid!

**OdekarA:** <http://naughtywolf.com>

**R4gn0r0k:** Asha I swear to God if that’s a link to anything dodgy I’m disowning you

**OdekarA:** Just click it. It’s music

 

Curious now, Matt followed the link. It took him to a webpage for a musician, who recorded only solo, instrumental pieces. After clicking on a few tracks, the songs all seemed to be heavy metal. He clicked through to the About page, and read the artist’s description:

 

No name. No band. Just me, Naughty Wolf and my instruments. Every single sound you hear on these tracks is played by me and me alone.

 

Following that were links to several online music blogs that had written reviews about the musician’s tracks. But most importantly, there was a picture: Someone wearing the same wolf mask that had been on his saviour.

 

**R4gn0r0k:** Asha, that’s the guy!

**OdekarA:** Are you sure?

**R4gn0r0k:** I’m positive. What should I do?

**OdekarA:** I’m not sure. You don’t know anything about this guy, and all of a sudden, he adds you on Skype? How did he find your username?

**R4gn0r0k:** You make a very good point.

**R4gn0r0k:** Fuck.

**OdekarA:** If it were me, I would block him, to be honest.

**OdekarA:** You don’t know who he is, and you don’t know anything about him, or how he found your profile. He could be stalking you.

**R4gn0r0k:** I could always hack his profile and find out who he is, at least.

**OdekarA:** No, you said you wouldn’t hack anymore after that time you got arrested.

**R4gn0r0k:** They couldn’t prove anything, tho

**OdekarA:** Matt. No.

**R4gn0r0k:** ):

**R4gn0r0k:** You’re no fun.

**OdekarA:** You need to keep your head down, and get on with school, yeah? Remember, you said you were aiming for the Ivy Leagues.

**OdekarA:** Or at least Oxbridge.

**R4gn0r0k:** True. Very true.

**OdekarA:** You should block them. Just to be safe.

**R4gn0r0k:** Maybe you’re right.

 

He didn’t actually think she was right. He felt too curious about who this person was to agree with her, and quickly, he clicked on accept friend request. But as he did so, and the person appeared on his friends list, they very quickly signed out. He felt compelled to say something to Asha, but he knew she’d judge him for even accepting his request.

 

**OdekarA:** I need to go.

**OdekarA:** It’s super late and I need to get some sleep.

**OdekarA:** More AS level tomorrow!

**R4gn0r0k:** Okay, Asha. Dinner’s probably ready soon, anyway. Sleep well xxx

**OdekarA:** Thank you xxx

**OdekarA:** Keep me posted about wht’s going on

**OdekarA:** What’s*

**R4gn0r0k:** I will xx Night xx

**OdekarA is now Offline.**

 

Matt sighed and closed the window. Again, he went to LOBO_TRAVIESO’s profile, and looked at it in all its blank glory. Who was this mystery? He heard his mother shout from downstairs, and he rose out of his seat, closing the profile window before he went.

 

***

 

The next school day, Kiki and Viola listened, enraptured as he told them what happened, and they both examined the deep cut in his lip. He got to Homeroom and Isaiah greeted him with another, lazy, wicked grin, and Johnny Gat even jutted his chin in greeting. What was better, was that there had been no sign of any of the bully trio this morning, and he hoped that meant that the Principal had taken the first chance she had gotten to put them in in school suspension, her favourite place to keep them, to prevent them from causing trouble.

 

Isaiah’s hand rested upon his desk, and Matt had to wince when he saw his knuckles. Punching Angelo had come at a price for him too, as they were bruised, swollen, and the skin over his middle knuckle had broken open.

 

“What happened to your face, Miller?” Johnny asked, leaning forwards to get a good look at his swollen mouth.

 

“Oh, this? I uh, I got attacked. It’s fine, though.”

 

Johnny laughed. “Tougher than you look, then, Miller? I like that.”

 

Matt turned to look at Isaiah, whose grin had seemingly gone up another level on wickedness. He had to look away, and he could feel his ears going pink.

 

“Leave him alone, he’s going pink.” Pierce, and he felt grateful, despite the teasing edge to his voice.

 

“Bless.” Isaiah added, and Matt felt himself go even pinker.

 

***

 

The rest of the day passed normally, with classes passing by in a flurry of writing, going over the year's syllabus, and a flurry of questions from various teachers, all concerned about his injuries. His patience was starting to wear thin, and he was glad when the day ended and he could go home. As he left, ready to wait outside for Kiki and Viola, who had offered him a lift home, he spotted Isaiah speaking to an elderly man in a car. The conversation was animated, and all of a sudden, Isaiah hurriedly got in the car, and before he had even closed the door fully, the car sped off, tires screaming as it went, causing everyone to turn and stare. Kiki approached, and Matt asked her if she knew who the old man was.

 

“That? Old Mister Warren. You know the big house out in the woods, if you're driving towards Steelport? He lives there. Apparently they're an old money family. Well, that's what Father says anyway.”

 

“So Isaiah's grandfather, maybe?”

“More than likely.” Kiki asserted, and she started walking towards Viola, who waited for them both beside their father's massive car, Matt following on her heels, a plan -of sorts- forming in his head. One that would let him find out as much as possible about Isaiah Warner.

 


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt learns a lesson in privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so there's some homophobic slurs in here, just a heads up

One of the things that you come to learn about a small town when you live there, is that everyone knows everyone, and as a result, everyone knows your business, and you know theirs. This is multiplied a thousandfold when your mother is one of the very few Doctors in the town limits, and despite her best efforts to stop it from happening, people come to you in the hopes you can ask her for them, saving themselves from a potentially expensive trip to the doctors. Matt unfortunately knew more about the personal health of many people in the town than he would ever want to know.

 

Kiki and Viola had made sure he was dropped off outside his door, and he waved as they left, before walking up the pathway to his home. He was met at the front door by his mother, who opened it before he could even fumble for his keys in the pockets of his bag. She looked incredibly relieved to see him, and in her hands, she had his bike helmet, and a brown paper bag.

 

“Oh, hey mum. What's up?”

 

“You have no idea how good your timing is. I need you to do something for me, right now, as quickly as you can.”

 

“Well, of course, but what is it?” Matt shrugged off his school bag and set it down, then took the brown paper bag and his helmet from his mother.

 

“Missus Eliza Warner is a patient of mine, and her husband just called. She's completely out of medication she desperately needs, and today's the day they don't have a nurse at home. He can't leave her alone, and his grandson doesn't know the way around well enough for him to drive to the Practice to collect them. I need you to cycle over there as quickly as you can.”

 

Matt pulled on the helmet, and accepted the brown bag from his mother before heading over to the garage. He unlocked the chain attaching his bike to the drainpipe, and slung his school bag across the handlebars, stuffing the brown paper bag containing the medication in the top of it.

 

“It's the old Warner place, the old Colonial house in the woods that's painted blue.”

 

“I know where you mean, mum. I'll head over there right now.”

 

“Good lad.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

The house had been painted blue, but it was in a time when the trees had not been quite so tall, and Steelport not quite so big. The house was a magnificent example of architecture, a true colonial manor house complete with sweeping driveway that led from the road, through the woods and up to the front of the property. It had clearly not had any form of maintenance performed on its exterior panels for at least 50 years, but the doors and widows showed signs of having been replaced in the last 5 years, and the roof was In good condition.

 

As Matt got off his bike and removed his helmet, his eyes were drawn to twitching curtains up on the second floor of the property, but when he peered up at the window he had seen he movement through, there was no sign of anyone there. He pulled his bag from his bike, and climbed the steps up onto the porch. He rang the bell, and for good measure, knocked the front doors, before stepping back to wait, curiously examining the assorted clutter by the entryway. He was about to knock again when something caught his eye: a metal baseball bat that was almost buried beneath other objects, as if deliberately hidden from view. He was about to pull the bat free to get a closer look, when the front door opened, and Matt had to shake himself when he saw who had opened it: Isaiah.

 

“What're you doing here?” Isaiah's voice was low, urgent, and he kept the door mostly closed, blocking the open space with his own massive body. He looked tired, and his face boasted a cut lip, a black eye, and a bruise that extended from his jaw to above his brow.

 

“I could ask you the same question! What happened to your face?”

 

Isaiah subconsciously put his hand up to his busted lip, flinching as his fingertips came in contact with the aching skin.

 

“It's nothing. And I live here, so that's why I'm here. But you didn't answer me, Matt. Why are _you_ here?” He said, slightly hostile, glancing furtively behind him.

 

“My mum asked me to drop off some medication for Mrs Warner...?”

 

Isaiah visibly sagged with relief.

 

“Thank fuck. Grandma's been needing that.”

 

“Grandma?” Matt asked curiously.

 

“Yes, Grandma. I live with her and Gramps.”

 

“Isaiah... Has someone here hurt you?”

 

Isaiah looked completely taken aback, but his look of confusion morphed through realisation, then anger, and finally settled on irritation.

 

“Fuck, no. Not that it's any of your goddamned business. I got canonised by the Saints. They welcomed me as one of them.”

 

“So they beat you up?”

 

“No, we sparred, me and Gat. He's looking as fucked as I am.” There was the wicked smile again.

 

Isaiah sighed, and almost snatched the bag out of Matt's hands.

 

“Look, I need to get these to my Grandma. You should probably go, Gramps doesn't want anyone disturbing her.” Matt nodded in understanding, and turned to set off down the steps. Isaiah stepped away from the door. Unbidden, Matt felt the question forming on his lips, and he just had to ask, despite Isaiah's hint that he should keep his nose out.

 

“Why weren't you in school to-”

 

As he turned, asking, the door clicked shut. He was surprised at how quickly Isaiah had gone back inside. He supposed it made sense, when he thought about it, however: they didn't know each other very well, and he guessed that whatever medication it was that his mum had asked him to drop off had been urgently required. He went back down the porch steps, put on his helmet, and set back off on his bike. As he vanished down the drive, the curtains in the window that had been moving as he arrived twitched again, as his watcher resumed, as if making sure he had really gone.

 

When he got home, he turned on his laptop, and was surprised to see that LOBO_TRAVIESO was online. He quickly opened the chat window, eager to ask the mystery user who they were, but as he was about to hit send, they signed out.

 

***

 

He had long held off (okay, he waited a week) on his temptation to pry into Isaiah Warner's personal life, and his desire to know everything about him that he could, but something about being told to mind his own business really rubbed him the wrong way. Subconsciously, almost, he had waited until after he had bid goodnight to Asha, not wanting her to have any remote idea of what he was up to, not wanting her to judge him for something he said he wouldn't do.

 

He had already ruled out the possibility of accessing Isaiah's own, personal computer (in truth, he wasn't even sure if Isaiah had a phone, let alone a computer) and had decided to use what information he already had to find out about Isaiah. He knew he had just moved from Steelport, and that for whatever reason, lived with his grandparents. He also knew, from sneaking a glance at the register, that his middle name was Alejandro. He knew enough to find what he needed.

 

Precursory searches found out more about his family tree, which, Matt knew, would in turn lead to more information about his past. In particular, he wanted to find out about the burns. What had happened to the boy? How had his face been damaged like that? His grandmother's name was Elisabet Maria Warner (nee Velazquez), and his grandfather was Terrance Isaiah Warner. The family was old, old money. Wealthy Brits who had landed in the US before it was the US, and by all accounts they had acquitted themselves well against the British during the Revolution. Their money was made on gold, and various mining ventures across the continental US. Terrance and Elisabet had just one child: Alejandro Terrance Warner, Isaiah's father.

 

Isaiah's father had been an attorney, practising out of Steelport. That's what his obituary said, anyway. He had found it when he had searched up Terrance's full name. Beloved Son. Gone too soon. He had died in a boating accident, and the news article he found reported that his boat had burst into flames following an electrical fault. Going by the dates, Isaiah would have been around 4 years old when it happened, if not younger. Finding his mother, however, proved difficult. A lot more digging eventually turned up her name.

 

“Fuck. Fuck you, Matthew Miller. Fuck.”

 

He had to step away from his laptop when he opened the news story connected to her name. It had every answer to the questions he had been seeking, but the cost of his knowledge was great. It was what could only be described as horrifying:

 

STEELPORT FIRE HORROR: THIRTY DEAD.

 

Firefighters and law enforcement have today described the scenes inside the burnt out apartment block in the Barrio as truly harrowing, with many describing the scene as something “out of a war film”. Thirty tonight have been left dead, and over 100 injured after a local woman, AMANDA ISLINGTON, 35, set fire to her apartment, believed to have been the result of a day of drug fuelled acts. Islington, a Steelport native, was previously known to police for various drug and solicitation offences, is in Intensive Care, armed guards keeping watch as the families of angry victims demand answers.

One of the victims of Islington's horrifying act of arson has been revealed to the Steelport Tribune as her teenaged son. ISAIAH WARNER, 16, is also in Intensive Care tonight, with Doctors reporting that he has suffered the worst burns out of all the survivors.

 

The news report dragged on for a few more paragraphs, but Matt had seen enough of it. Feeling sick, he scrolled down to related news. What he found there told him this: Isaiah's mother was known to Child Protection for her neglect towards Isaiah. She resented him, for some twisted reason, and as a result of this she had drugged him before setting their apartment alight, hoping to kill him and herself. She had failed on both counts. Isaiah survived, horribly burnt, and custody of him was given to his grandparents as he was not yet 18. She too still lived, although still in Intensive Care. If she ever came to, she faced trial for the murder of 38 people: the original 30 who had died in the fire, and the 8 who had died later as a result of their injuries. On one of the articles, there was a picture of Isaiah in the hospital, his entire body covered in bandages, one baleful, green eye staring out at the photographer.

 

He closed all the web pages, turned off his laptop, and went over to his bed, throwing himself down on it. He gazed up at his Nyte Blayde posters, and felt sick to his stomach. He shouldn't have looked. He should not have looked.

 

***

 

It was Monday again before Matt knew it, and he was soon back in homeroom, Isaiah and the rest of the Saints sat behind him, both he and Gat looking as bruised as the other, but the pair closer friends than ever before. He couldn't bring himself to look at Isaiah, and only managed a taut smile when the other boy had offered his greetings. He sat, leg twitching with nervous energy as he watched the clock, desperate to get to a class where he could put a bit of distance between himself and Isaiah.

 

Biology was the first class of the day, and although they were both in the class, they would not have to interact at all. Or so he thought. When he arrived, he dropped himself into a seat next to Kinzie Kensington, a brilliant young woman and his arch-nemesis. Despite their mutual dislike for one another that extended back to a sabotaged project, and leaked, embarrassing childhood photos they had agreed to work together when it came to scientific classes, as both of them agreed that the other was probably the best person to work with in the class. Unfortunately, that idea was not in the head of their teacher, who, upon arriving, had all of them pick up their belongings, and come to the front of the room.

 

“For this first month, class, I have a project for you all to be working on. I have already decided who I'm pairing up.”

 

The teacher started working through the register, sitting the pairs each on their separate benches. Matt groaned inwardly as Kinzie was paired off with Pierce, and even those he would consider his back up partners, Kiki and Viola, were paired off with Johnny Gat and Shaundi respectively. Then, what he had feared happened: he and Isaiah were paired together. They went to the bench together, and sat down, Isaiah silent, but glancing repeatedly at his watch. Matt resigned himself to his potential fate: there was a good chance he was going to do all of this project by himself. As soon as they were all seated, the teacher launched into an explanation of what he wanted them to do, and Matt did his best to pay attention, but his mind was consumed by his worries about his own inability to mind his own business.

 

He sat there, in the fugue of his own thoughts until he was rudely pulled out of it by the sound of the bell ringing. Panicking, he looked down and his notepad, and cursed himself out internally for not paying attention. He looked over to Isaiah, who had already packed up his belongings.

 

“Yo, meet me in the library at lunch.” He didn't even give Miller the chance to reply before stalking off, and Matt swallowed, nervous to face him and admit that he hadn't a clue what the project was even meant to be about.

 

***

 

The classes before lunch passed more easily, although that could largely be attributed to the lack of Isaiah in them, Matt had to admit. As he headed down to the library, he felt nervous. He tried to be stern with himself, telling himself to calm down and stop being ridiculous, all he had to do was say nothing, but that didn't alleviate the feeling almost akin to guilt that he carried in his chest.

 

Isaiah met him in the library, having already set up at a desk with books, a netbook, and paper and pens. Matt was pleasantly surprised by this, although he dreaded admitting he hadn't been paying attention. Isaiah smiled as he came over, that same wicked smile that Matt was coming to associate with him.

 

“'Sup?” Isaiah asked, leaning back from the desk in a languid stretch. Matt swallowed and had to tear his gaze away from the strip of skin that appeared at the edge of his shirt, spotting the pink scarring that must cover his whole body. Isaiah had spotted him looking, and his wicked grin widened.

 

“See something you like down there, Miller?”

 

Matt had the good grace to turn pink, and very quickly sit down next to Warner, cautious to keep some semblance of distance between himself and the other boy.

 

“No, I'm not gay.”

 

Isaiah raised one eyebrow.

 

“I never said you were... But what's wrong with being gay?”

 

Matt stammered out his answer, suddenly flustered.

 

“Nothing! N-nothing at all, I'm... I'm just n-not!”

 

Isaiah folded his arms across his chest, the set of his jaw changing.

 

“I'm gay, Miller. Do you have a problem with that?”

 

Matt put his head in his hands. He was making a complete mess of this conversation, despite his promises to himself that he would remain cool and calm.

 

“No, I don't. I'm... I'm just not... I'm just not good with real life conversations, and I'm making a mess of this, and I'm sorry that I'm being such an idiot but... It's just that I'm not good with other people in person. Online? I'm the coolest. Total cyber God. Here? Nope.”

 

Isaiah laughed. “I was teasing, Mister 'Cyber God.' You're cute, Miller.”

 

Matt went redder.

 

“But enough. We should make a start on our work for this project.”

 

“Um. About that.”

 

“What?”

 

“I... Kinda wasn't paying attention, and I have no idea what we're supposed to be working on.”

 

Isaiah laughed again, earning him a shushing and a sour look from the librarian. He dropped his head low, smirked, and then flipped open his notepad.

 

“Just as well I made notes then, isn't it?” He murmured, sliding the book over to Matt.

 

“It's a project on microbiology, to be presented at the start of October. I was thinking that we could do ours on bacteria growth in aquatic environments, it'd be fairly easy to do but isn't your usual 'oh look at how these bacteria react to cleaners!' shit.”

 

Matt nodded, impressed by the thought that Isaiah had already put in. He pulled his laptop out of the bag, and booted it up, waiting for it to boot so he could head to the search engine he had built himself for school projects. As soon as the page loaded, Isaiah was at his shoulder.

 

“That's not Google Scholar.”

 

“Google Scholar _wishes_ it was as good as this. This is my own creation. It can find anything, and can even rip the exact text I need from whatever online repository the book is in, be it eBook or otherwise.”

 

“That's... That's very impressive.”

Matt smiled.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I have to ask though.”

 

“What?”

 

“I feel like I'm going to regret asking.”

“ _What?_ ”

 

Isaiah shifted in his seat.

 

“Your desktop background...What's Nyte Blayde?”

 

Matt turned slowly to look at him.

 

“...I can't just... _TELL_ you. I have to show you.”

 

***

 

Matt's mum was keen to welcome a friend of Matt's into the house, and after a quick meal, they were sat in Matt's room, the first episode of Nyte Blayde queued up on Matt's laptop. The hour passed with not a word said, and at the end of the episode, Isaiah was hooked.

 

“That was amazing.”

 

“See?”

 

“How many series is there?”

 

“Just one for now, but Season two starts soon!”

 

“I... I need to catch up.”

 

“Well, I would say let's put the next one on, but I'm guessing you need to get home.”

 

Isaiah looked at the clock in the corner of Matt's screen, then sighed.

 

“Yeah...”

 

“Come on, I'll walk with you.”

 

***

 

 

A walk doesn't seem as far when someone else was walking with you. They were soon close to Isaiah's home, but as they rounded the corner onto the road that connected to his drive, they came face to face with someone neither of them particularly wanted to see: Tanya Winters. Matt felt Isaiah bristle next to him, and he put his arm in front of him.

 

“Don't,” he said quietly. “Don't give her any satisfaction.”

 

Tanya wouldn't let them slip away that easy.

 

“What's up, Barbecue Boy? Out for a walk with your new boyfriend?”

 

Isaiah's only reaction was a clenching of his fists and a tightening of his jaw, and Matt winced internally, dreading the confrontation.

 

“Don't, Isaiah. Let's just go.”

 

Isaiah considered Matt, and then nodded. They both walked off, Matt relieved that the fight had been stopped before it happened. Or so he thought.

 

“What's wrong? Don't want mommy finding out you're a faggot and setting you on fire again?”

 

Isaiah turned quicker than Matt thought possible, and he desperately grasped at his arm, gripping as tightly as he could.

 

“Don't! She's not worth it!”

 

Isaiah stopped, and Matt could feel the rage shaking through him, rolling off him in waves so intense you could almost feel them shaking your very core. A minute seemed to stretch on for an eternity, until he finally turned and stormed towards his home, Matt running to keep up with him. Tanya smirked, and set off in the direction of town.

 

“Isaiah, wait!”

 

“How the fuck did she find out?!”

 

“Isaiah, come on, calm down!”

 

“No one here is supposed to know!”

 

“Isaiah, she probably found it online, like I-”

 

Shit. Isaiah turned, grabbing the front of his shirt.

 

“Like you what, Matt?” His voice had a dangerous edge, and Matt grabbed at his wrist, frightened now, more than he had been when Hector had cornered him on the way home.

 

“...Like I did. I looked up who you were.”

 

Isaiah looked incredibly hurt, and then the pain gave way to more anger. He let go of Matt's shirt, and rounded the last bend on his drive, stomping up the porch steps as Matt struggled to keep up.

 

“Isaiah, please!”

 

He turned again, and in his hands was the metal bat that Matt had spotted in the piles of clutter just days before, and he hefted it menacingly.

 

“Stay the fuck away from me you fucking nosey cunt.”

 

Matt stopped in his tracks, and he could only watch helplessly as Isaiah stormed into his house, slamming the door behind him. And then he was alone, with only the coming darkness and the suddenly oppressive forest for company.

 


End file.
